Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1887-01-27

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his epitaph the word. failure.
He had been conscious MANY t;r,as
that his love had gone out into the
letters, in his vain efforts 10 screen b;s
| Tended.
And now she had written that, in a
lew days, she would pass through his
village on her way to visit friends IN
the adjoining State, and had added:
AS VIII be Obliged to wait lew
hours IN your town, | should be hap
Ply to call on you, if you will be at
home"
| AT home? He would always be at
nome when his good angel chose TO
niess nun with a visit, so he replied
that he would be overioyed to see her.
Since then he had been waiting. and
each day had seemed an eternity in
| itself.
lie sat in his study, trying to mus
yer ms thoughts to the completion OF
ms last sonnet but some way they
were refractory in the extreme, and
could not be managed.
The loneliness of the Nav morning
oeamed IN through the open window.
and the fragrant breath OF the spring
time stole softly in over the easement
to charm his poet soul into the arms
oil the Muse, but in vain. The arrival
oil every train made him nervous. and
the sound OF footsteps on the walk
outside caused him co start. Even
Shakespeare could not have written d
line correctly in this state OF excite
ment, he was sure. He threw down
ms pen IN disgust and kicked his slip
pers across the room in his impa-
thence; then he went over and put his
ieet INTO them, calmly and solemnlv.
as II doing penance.
"Oniy an old FRIEND" he heard some
one say in the hall; of course it was
the old woman with the book agency
come again. He had seen her pass the
window only afew minutes before, and
had hoped, shefor once, would be kind
enough TO go on by; but she had not,
and she always said ian old friend, :"
to the housekeeper; so when some one
tapped on his study door, he
merely erowled out; "Come in" She
did not mind his discourtesy-boo
agents never debut came in, as he
had ungraciously invited her to do.
and he looked up. 1t wasn't old Mrs.
ZONES with her goid-bowed spectacles
at all. A quiet-looking lady stood
there with a perplexed look on her
face. 'lt is ], she said, coming for
ward. and holding out her hand.
"tslve | disturbed you by my uncere-
moniouscall2"
lie stammered something. meant
for an apology. as he rose and took
she proffered hand. She did not mind
his infusion, knowing from the look
IN his dark eyes that she was welcome
as the sunshine.
Then this was the woman of whom
he had dreamed so much-and, per-
haps. in vain. She was not beautiful.
No; but she had kindly face, and
was lovable. There was a wide
awake, tender sincerity in her counte.
nance, he loved. In short, she was a
womanly woman, and not a man.
What relief to find she was not
one of the fuss and feathers" sort OF
women; but, OF course, had she been,
she never would have thought of him.
He WAS prompted to get up and 20
over to the window where she was sit
ting and kiss her for her good sense,
but he did not dare. No. not yet;
may be sometime ne could do that,
but not to-day, much az he wished to.
She seemed to be looking at him, and
pretending not to see him, he thought.
Was she taking an inventory of his
''den, or was she reading him, much
as professor would textbook? He
felt little uncomfortable when those
quiet blue-gray eyes rested for mo-
ment on HIM, but when he looked at
her, he forgot everything but the flut-
ter of delight in his lonely soul, and
the lines OF Robert Burns:
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love forever.
She talked OF his literary prospects;
found much to commend in his en-
deavors, and seemed interested in his
welfare.
How strange it sounded to him to
have cheering words spoken in MS ten
by twelve study; the very walls must
have been surprised, he thought, to
hayecaught the echoes OF an encourag-
ing voice. But hegrew confident while
she talked; confident that he could win
and wear the laurel If she never for
sock him.
How quickly the hours had flown
and she was ready to go. He went
with her to the train and pressed her
hand in little half-frightened manner
at parting; and she had colored slight
ly. but she was not offended.
The cars had gone now, and he stood,
looking the way she went. Shewaved
a good-bye to him with her handker-
chief from the open window and her
kindly face had beamed on him from
beneath it's crown of dainty rings OF
curling hair, clustering on the full
whiteforehead.
All, me! the "den" was lonesome
now, and so silent, since it's brief sea.
son of sunshine, coming like the smile
oil an angel, and going as goes beau
tiful dream, leaving a tender regret.
There were the flowers she had given
him; there was the manuscript she had
praised, and her words seemed linger-
ing yet in the room. He pressed the
flowers to his heart to fill the vacuum
which never had been filled as her love
could fill it, and murmured: 81 will
help you"
She had said this and more as she
stood lingering by his desk, and she
had looked at him over her fan with
an expression he could scarcely inter
pref. Ii seemed to him that she would
have been contented to have stayed
with him, and his heart gave u great
throb oil happiness at the thought.
But he. was only guessing, and he
might be far from the truth.
hod Gonna n0aito HaShIflO
banners over field and wood. He had
not heard from her lately, but she was
still in the east. Had she become dis
enchanted by his PLAN, everyday APP
pearance, and was she forge tting him
now after-we!l, she never said that
she loved him, but she had come nigh
unto that happy confession more than
once; at least he so interpreted it.
But if she did not care for him, God
help him!
That word Failure" would be his
destiny after all, and the sunshine
would go out suddenly from his life.
Was he weak and unmanly to depend
on another so? No; he thought not.
Why had this one bright star risen on
his night? Why had this fair helper
crossed his lonely way just in time to
save him? Why did this great effec-
ton for her become his very existence
if they were all doomed to go down in
to the cherries grave OF Richard
Realf together
He had seen beautiful blossoms open
in dewy mornings, with promise ola
bright happy day, only to be crushed
and withered ere the noontide. Were
- 4. haIrnrrn.Nr soul